The New Kid
by Valkerie
Summary: Feliks is new at Embassy high.  How will Toris react?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N/: Hey, Valkerie here! So this fic takes place at a school I made up called Embassy High. Embassy is the high school for the kids of all the important foreigners who come the city where it's located. (I think it's going to be somewhere in New York.) There are a lot of American kids there, too, though. **

**Also, there are human names used here.**

**Enjoy, read, review! Flames are just as appreciated as praise. (But if you hate it, please tell me why) ^_^**

**Thanks much,**

**Valkerie  
**

"Because," said Alfred as he paid for his burger. "I'm just awesome like that."

Ludwig sighed. Alfred never, ever studied, but he managed to make pretty good grades, anyway. _I should probably just stop asking,_ he thought. The blond boy could be a bit exasperating at times.

"Hey! Kiku's over there, let's go eat with him!" Alfred pointed at their Japanese friend while Ludwig fished in his pocket for a quarter.

Their table was generally called "the smart table" because Alfred, Kiku, Ludwig, and Eduard all took AP classes, and kicked butt in them. Most of them, anyway. Alfred had a low C in Economics. Kiku had the highest grades in the district in Technology and Robotics, and he took his math classes from the University. Eduard was brilliant with mechanics and electricity; he was second to Kiku in Robotics. Ludwig was good in debate and Miiltary History.

Sometimes Roderiech sat with them, too. He was kind of a loner. He was quiet, withdrawn; he always looked dressed for a semi-formal event. Few of the school's students knew that he played piano like a prodigy. The bespectacled Austrian could have won every single school talent show, but he never participated. When he wasn't sitting with "the smart kids," he usually ate alone, but today Ludwig spotted him at the other end of the cafeteria, talking to a girl named Elizabeta, who had long, light brown hair, always wore a dress, and was probably the sweetest girl any one of them had ever met.

Ludwig's attention was severed from Roderiech and Elizabeta when two others joined their group. Toris (everybody called him Liet) and Raivis were Eduard's two best friends. In fact, the three were so close that people often referred to them as brothers. Toris didn't say much. Raivis didn't either. Ludwig got the impression that the small, blond-haired boy was some degree of frightened of all of them. He always seemed to be trembling.

And then there was Ivan. None of them really knew what to think of him. Apparently he was really smart; he took some classes from the University, as well, and he had high scores in all of his classes. He smiled a lot, and seemed completely normal. That is, until you started talking to him. He had this sort of dark... cloud that wrapped itself around him sometimes. Ludwig had once found a discarded paper of Ivan's filled with notes outlining how a nation could take over the world. It was actually kind of scary.

At the moment, Ivan was standing in a corner of the cafeteria, watching the students mill about. He was eating some kind of weird Russian soup, made with boiled beets or something. Ivan always brought his lunch, and this was pretty much the only thing he ever ate. The expression on his face was for once not a smile, but a look of quiet contemplation. _Wonder what he's planning now,_ Ludwig thought.

Ludwig didn't talk much. He watched people. He liked to know who everyone was, where they were, and what they were doing. He wasn't a stalker or anything like that, but being ultra-aware of what was going on made him feel... secure.

Speaking of that... where was Veniciano? His Italian friend was never easy to miss, mostly because he spent all his time jabbering to Ludwig about pasta and artists. Not that Ludwig minded, really. When he'd first met Veni, he'd been out of his mind with irritation, but he realized that the short boy's constant chatter was actually kind of interesting, if you bothered to listen. And while Ludwig didn't talk much himself, he listened. He probably knew more about art now that anybody except Veniciano himself.

"Ve!" Ludwig jumped when a happy voice sounded in his ear. "What?" He said gruffly, to cover up his surprise.

"I have a new friend, Luddy," chirped the smiling boy. "His name is Feliks. We met in art class third hour."

Ludwig turned to see a boy standing beside Veniciano, just a few inches taller than the Italian. The boy had shoulder-length blonde hair, and green eyes. He was dressed all in green: green shirt, green jacket, green pants. His shoes were black.

"Yeah," said the boy. "Like, hi and stuff! I'm Feliks, and I'm totally new here. Veniciano said I could come and like, meet you guys."

Alfred was already out of his seat, sticking his hand out for the new kid to shake. "I'm Alfred Jones. If you wanna find the best burger joints in town, I'm your man!"

Eduard nodded and smiled, Kiku made a little bow, Raivis trembled but said "hi." Toris, Ludwig noticed, said nothing. He thought about this as he stuck out his hand stiffly for Feliks to shake. Maybe Liet wasn't feeling good today; he never said much anyway.

Veniciano and Feliks sat down next to Ludwig, and Veni started talking about the "dynamic and emotive color scheme" of Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Night." Kiku and Eduard were soon deep in conversation about recent improvements in silicon microchips. Feliks was talking with Alfred about an allusion to a phoenix in a book both of them had read. Toris still wasn't saying anything. He had completely abandoned his lunch, and had hardly even moved. _Maybe I should talk to him after lunch, _Ludwig thought to himself. _See if he's alright. _It bothered the German that he didn't know what was wrong with his friend.

But when the bell rang, Toris left without a word, and Ludwig didn't see him for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

Toris couldn't concentrate. Ms. Ordowitz's lecture went in one ear and out the other. He wasn't paying attention, wasn't even looking at the board. No. The thing Toris was staring at was across the room from him, doodling idly in a notebook.

Feliks Łukasiewicz. Blonde hair, smooth skin, brilliant green eyes... Toris couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he laughed. The way his hair fell past the end of his nose as he concentrated on his notebook. The curve of his fingers wrapped around the pencil, the way his lips pursed slightly. No way Toris could concentrate on Hester's moral wilderness, not when his attention was held so raptly by Feliks.

_No!_ Toris screamed at himself inside his head. _I have to ignore him. Completely shut him out. Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. Don't _think _about him. Concentrate, dammit! _

Across the room, Feliks was concentrating on his drawing. Practiced fingers sketched first a rectangle, and then a blocky shape off to the side. The rectangle acquired a handle and a lock, and bands with a dull sheen. With a few lines and graceful curves, the blocky shape became a quiet little rosebush. The image of hard and unforgiving iron, juxtaposed with the somber beauty and innocence of the rosebush, was actually a little sobering. Feliks couldn't help but think that it was a good metaphor for the human mind.

He wasn't missing anything, of course. He'd read _The Scarlet Letter_ over the summer, and spent weeks on the internet, versing himself in the symbolism and setting of the book. If the teacher chewed him out for drawing while she taught, well, he could make it up to her with his scores on the test.

Finished with the rosebush and door, he flipped the page and stuck the pencil tip between his teeth. Now to draw Hester herself... He lifted his head and swept his eyes around the classroom. It was always easier to draw faces with a reference. Now which one of the girls had the best face for Hester?

It wasn't a girl that he picked to draw. It was Toris, who wasn't paying attention either, rather choosing to frown at his desk. _Wonder if he's sick,_ thought Feliks,_ or maybe he just hates Hawthorne._ He watched as Toris shook his head slightly, turning his head in Feliks' direction. Feliks briefly glanced at the wall to his left, but aside from a few posters covered in writing tips, there wasn't anything interesting there. Toris must be really bored to be staring at _that_ wall.

Either way, Toris was looking straight in Feliks's direction. So, keeping his eyes mostly downcast so as not to be caught staring, Feliks put pencil to paper and started to draw.

A long, sweeping line for the jaw, straight, sharp nose, dark, strong eyes. Being an artist, Feliks had learned to see and appreciate every contour of the human face, and he found himself falling in a sort of love with the strength he saw in Toris. _Like, he doesn't show it, but I bet he totally kicks butt,_ Feliks thought to himself. He tried his best to impart that strength into his drawing.

As the teacher discussed internal moral conflict, Toris watched Feliks draw. He was obviously drawing someone or something on Toris's side of the room; his eyes kept flitting from the paper to somewhere next to Toris's head. _God, I hope he doesn't notice that I'm staring at him... _Toris inwardly cringed at the thought, and whipped around to face the teacher, for all appearances fascinated with Hester and her predicament.

Feliks cursed as Toris suddenly turned to the front. _Damn. Guess he finally got interested. Wish he'd turn this way again. _Feliks was almost done with the portrait, having feminized Toris's face and put him in a period Puritan dress. He drew a dark, bold letter A on the left breast of the dress, and surrounded it with beautiful scrollwork. _God, I hope he never, ever see this..._ Feliks almost laughed out loud.

He'd seen Toris sitting at the table with Ludwig and Veniciano and the others, but the Lithuanian boy hadn't said a word, instead sitting for a few minutes, and then tossing what was left of his sandwich in the trash and heading out of the cafeteria. _I still wonder why he did that. _Feliks thought. _Maybe he really is sick..._

The bell rang, the teacher reminded students to read as they piled out of the door. And then she said something else. "Feliks, Toris, I'd like to speak with you two."

Toris stopped short. He turned around slowly and walked over to the teacher's desk.

Feliks watched with interest as Toris came to stand next to him. There was a slight blush high on the brown-haired boy's cheeks, and he was palpably tense.

"Boys," said the teacher.

Feliks turned to smile at her. "Yes, ma'm?" he asked.

"From now on, I'd like you two to turn your focus toward the class discussion. I understand that _The Scarlet Letter _may bore you; it did me when I was a ninth grader. That is no excuse not to pay attention.

"I'm only calling this to your attention because I know that you're both great students. I'd like you to get as much out of this class as you can. I'm sure you will find this book interesting and emotionally stimulating if you pay attention. Toris, you may go."

Toris muttered a "thank you," and strode swiftly out of the room. The teacher turned toward Feliks.

"The art teacher, Mrs. Feldham, has told me about you. If you don't mind, may I see your notebook?" she asked.

_Damn, _thought Feliks. _I can't very well say no, can I? I'm totally gonna have to show her. _Outwardly, he smiled tensely and handed the notebook over to Ms. Ordowitz. She flipped through the pages quickly but thoroughly, until she stopped and said, "You were paying attention." Feliks cringed inwardly. He was totally going to get in trouble for drawing Toris in a dress, which could be construed as sexual harassment. But Ms. Ordowitz gave a genuine smile and handed the notebook back to Feliks. "You have a lot of talent, Mr. Łukasiewicz," -Feliks hid his surprise at her correct pronounciation of his last name- "but in the future, please participate in class."

Feliks nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Ms. Ordowitz." He let out a sigh of relief as he exited the classroom.


	3. Chapter 3

The Diary of Feliks Łukasiewicz

Tuesday

Today was my first day at Embassy High. It's actually pretty nice; it's got some trees out front, and these big wooden front doors. The halls are big and roomy, and the rooms are nice and airy. That's good, because there are a lot of students. Of course almost half are international, that's the whole purpose for the school.

The kids are pretty nice, too. I met this Italian boy in art class (third hour.) His name is Veniciano, and he has the _cutest_ Italian accent. He introduced me to a bunch of his friends at lunch: Ludwig, Eduard, Raivis, Alfred, Kiku, and Toris. Toris is, like, totally quiet. He hasn't said more than a word or two. I'm thinking he's maybe sick or something. At lunch, he didn't even say hi to me. I thought he was just being totally rude, but then he stood up and left with this odd look on his face. And in English class, he kept staring in my direction (I couldn't figure out what he was staring at) while I was drawing him. After class, the teacher, Ms. Ordowitz, called us up and told us to pay more attention. She asked to see my notebook, too.

But here's the bad part: I was drawing Hester from our novel, _The Scarlet Letter_, and I needed a reference. So I drew Toris, and put him in a Puritan dress, and drew an A on the chest. I figured I'd get in big trouble, because drawing a male classmate in a dress if he doesn't wear one could technically be called sexual harassment. I think. Anyway, I didn't get in trouble. Ms. Ordowitz just smiled and told me I had a lot of talent.

And here's another thing: While I was drawing Toris, I got a good look at him. I've got his face memorized. And I can't stop thinking about it. About him.

I think... I think I like him.


End file.
